


Corset Shenanigans

by RazMahDaz



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: It's just gay, Jaskier being sultry, Listen dawg, M/M, Oneshot, Pining, That's it, Yearning, corsets, horny energy, it's just gay yearning and sweet nothings and Geralt being so soft for Jaskier, no payoff though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:28:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22984795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RazMahDaz/pseuds/RazMahDaz
Summary: Jaskier needs help putting on a corset and Geralt helps and it's BIG HORNTY energy. Like, Major. Like humongous hornty energy.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 4
Kudos: 246





	Corset Shenanigans

Geralt had watched this scene too many times before.

He found himself standing near a door in an illustrious hallway in a castle of someone who found Jaskier’s music to be blessed by the very gods in heaven. A large banquet was beginning downstairs and he was forced to wait for the bard to get done with his canoodling so that they could get this night over with, but of course Jaskier had schmoozed his way into the garters of some pretty young thing and was giggling and muttering behind closed doors. Geralt could only imagine what the two were doing, and if he was honest, he didn’t find the thought unappealing.

Jaskier all hot and bothered and confident, bold enough to laugh and joke during sex, to moan so loud that he could be heard from the courtyard 40 feet below them. Geralt was subjected to this torture for far too long; the torture of it never being him Jaskier laughed with. These feelings were never new, not by a longshot. Jaskier had wormed his songs and personality deep into Geralt’s heart many years ago, but he never let his own feelings get in the way of Jaskier’s fun. He’d have more of a time with them anyway, if all those nights Geralt fell witness to were genuine. He had noticed that Jaskier hadn’t taken many partners anymore, but it made tonight hurt something terrible. If it was love or a simple case of lust, the Witcher was unsure, he just knew he wouldn’t mind ending up in the Bard’s warm bed in place of these temporary partners.

The temporary partner tonight, however, left notibally early. She opened the door and nodded at Geralt as she walked down the hall, still cleanly dressed and composed aside from a slight redness to her cheeks. Blonde hair still in perfect curls and jolly pep in her walk. Geralt had expected this to go on for at least another hour and she didn’t seem all disposed. Mayhaps Jaskier actually wanted to be on time this evening. The door closed behind her before he could get a glimpse inside the room. He leaned back, his white hair being pushed against the heavy door and he let out a low groan of boredom and jealousy. He waited for only a few minutes before he heard Jaskier’s melodious voice just behind the door, and Geralt almost jumped from his suddenness.

“Geralt? Are you still out there?” Jaskier’s voice was hushed, almost stealthy like.

“Yes,” He returned flatly but similar in tone.

“Great! I need your help with...Something,” the bard continued, a hint of...Shyness to his voice. Geralt was now more than curious about what the bard needed, a small part of him begging it to be of his daydreams. He wasn’t sure if he should ask or just walk in, so he waited a moment to hear Jaskier take a few steps back. “You can come in,” the bard offered. The Witcher, keeping with the secrecy, opened the door, slinked in, and closed it gently, all without looking at Jaskier. He took a quiet breath and prepared himself for what he was about to see.

Nothing on this grand planet could have prepared him for what laid before him in the light of a warm fireplace.

Jaskier half dressed and looking at himself in a full length mirror. His dark maroon pants unbuttoned and barely up on his boney hips, his hair perfectly done, and a golden corset around his abdomen. It was decorated intricately with embroidered designs of peacocks and leaves, each thread sparkling when the warm light hit his body just so. If Jaskier wasn’t an angel, surely he could pass for one. His cobalt eyes met with Geralt’s in the mirror and a smile ran across his lips.

“Greetings my brutishly strong and most helpful best friend on this whole earth,” Jaskier started, turning to face the Witcher fully. Gods help Geralt’s wonder lust filled eyes that just ran laps across the bard’s torso. He could barely wrench them away to make contact with Jaskier’s. His fingers touched tips with each other and pointed towards Geralt with intention. “I appreciate that you haven’t left me because I oh-so-do need your assistance. You see, I’m trying to tighten this corset, and I just can’t do it by myself. Mind doing your big, strong man, thing and tighten this a little bit,” he accentuates the last part. He gave his best puppy dog eyes, and Geralt thought he was wax in the presence of a beaming sun.

So many things ran through Geralt’s head, so many dirty things that his instincts were dying to make him do. Though, one thought kept recurring, about the bard’s request. Geralt was a simple man, and fashion was never his expertise by a long shot. Listening was, however, and long times spent with Yennefer lead to her bitching about how uncomfortable and dangerous corsets could be. He had seen the bruises on her skin left from the vile thing, and here Jaskier was, asking him to make his tighter. As malleable this lovely man made him, he had reservations about this. Mostly because he didn’t believe Jaskier needed it. He was young and fine and had a more than perfect figure.

“You don’t need to wear a corset, Jaskier. If anything, you’ve lost weight,” Geralt half complimented. The other’s cheeks went just a slightly darker shade before Jaskier turned to look in the mirror again, his hands running up and down his sides and across his stomach.

“I know, it’s not for my stomach. Trust me, I could care less about my figure,” he admitted. As far as Jaskier was concerned, he was too thin. Travelling did that to a man of his metabolism, especially when Geralt made him walk. His hands instead moved to the groove of his own back and they pushed, making himself stand up straighter.

“It’s for my posture. I’ve noticed as I've been sleeping on the ground and in less desirable places, I have begun to slouch. I can’t even remember when I could look you in the eyes,” Jaskier commented, his eyes meeting with Geralt’s in the mirror once more. “I asked for some advice from that handmaiden, since forcing myself to stand up formally is a strain, and she suggested this. A little bribery later, I have one of her Grand Duchess' corsets. Only problem is that she got called away just now to serve said Duchess and I can’t reach my back.” Their eyes never broke contact, and he flashed those sweet pleading eyes at the Witcher, silently begging him to assist. 

“So, if you wouldn’t mind,” he cooed towards Geralt, his head looking over his shoulder towards the other.

Geralt really didn’t have a choice in the matter, his body moving to the other without a second thought. His fingers delicately picked up the loose laces that were just under his shoulder blades, wrapping them around his palms to get a small bit of extra support. Jaskier’s hands found purchase on the mirror itself for support, and took some deep, smooth breaths to prepare himself. Jaskier nodded and Geralt pulled ever so gently on the laces. He was deftly aware of how strong he could be, and Jaskier had asked for it tightened only a tiny bit. So his hands pulled the laces taught slowly, squeezing the breath out of the bard little by little. Jaskier’s eyes went half lidded and gentle, biting his bottom lip as a light ache began to set in. It didn't take more than a few seconds for him to be standing upright and perfect. Geralt stopped when he asked, tied a nice knot of the strings, but he didn’t back away. He stood and admired the bard’s figure in the reflection.

Jaskier turned and eyed himself over and over, a smirk to his lips. He buttoned his pants and hiked them up a bit and Geralt tried hard not to gaze too long at Jaskier’s ass. Jaskier was right; he couldn’t remember the last time the pair could see eye to eye, but it gave Geralt a shock of memory seeing just how tall he was. Even though he was lovely and gorgeous and downright sinful looking, Geralt still felt worried about the poor bard’s health. His hand unconsciously rubbed the other’s side as if he were checking for reactions from the other.

Jaskier noticed this delicate gesture and almost did a double take at it. He could see the concern in those amber eyes, the tenderness behind their frigid exterior. It was comforting to see, a contrast to the Witcher he’s travelled with for so many years. Geralt always had a quiet way of showing his affections, but Jaskier could read him like a book. It was the little things that made Jaskier feel loved; waking up with a warm cloak that wasn’t his, a firm hand to hold on rocky trails, Geralt letting himself be subjected to nights like this just for him. Nothing was formal, never said or admitted, but Jaskier found himself spending more evenings with Geralt than with any gorgeous face he had met in the many bars they found themselves in.

“I won’t wear it long, if that’s what puts you at ease,” he reassured the Witcher, his hand caressing the broad length of Geralt’s shoulder. “Just for my main performance, then I’ll come right back and take it off for the evening.”

Geralt’s hand fell to Jaskier’s side, holding him impossibly close yet incredibly far. Jaskier looked so sweet and gentle and oh so beautiful, the more Geralt stares at him. He hated the thought of a dark bruise tainting his image. A bruise that wasn’t made by him, at least.

“You promise?” The Witcher hummed low in his chest.  
“As long as you come along and assist me,” Jaskier said, his voice thick with a sense of teasing.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Geralt agreed, a hint of a smile pushing into his cowl with no restraint.

**Author's Note:**

> That's it. You read it. Congrats and thank you. Hope you enjoyed, now get some sleep, drink some water, go for a walk. Take care of yourself cuz i love ya. ;)


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